August 4, 2008

Monday

GOOD FRIENDS     

The sun has been very reclusive this summer seeming more like a hermit than an everyday house guest.  Today was no exception, it was overcast and cool with a light drizzle falling.

We had warm-ups for breakfast as Onie tried to clean perishables out of the refrigerator before we are gone for a couple of days,   The writer became the reader with the morning paper and then worked the crossword before making a few notes.

After breakfast Dawn and Colby moved some of their things over to Kurt’s trailer where they will be sleeping, while we are in camp, until they leave on Saturday.  Kurt, he and Becky are our good friends, was kind enough to offer it and they will be comfortable in their own beds as well as being free to sleep in as long as they want.

Kurt and his crew left for Anchorage early this morning.  They have a flight to the twin cities, Minneapolis/St. Paul, before noon.  Kurt had risen extra early to pack all their fish and clams in insulated shipping boxes.  With five of them traveling they will be able to take home ten boxes of frozen fish and clams without paying any shipping.  That saves hundreds of dollars in freight charges.

Kurt called before noon to say they had made it safely to Anchorage and would be boarding the airplane at any time.  He wished us good fishing, in his absence and said he would be back in a week or so.  He will call and let us know his expected arrival time and date.  I wished him safe travel and asked him to give Becky our love.

Dirty clothes accumulate whether one is just living life or is on vacation.  As a result we had dirty clothes as did Dawn and Colby.  Onie and Dawn set about getting our clothes clean and dry, once again. 

Colby and I set about catching some fish.  Onie and Dawn were successful with the clothes and Colby and I were successful in catching more fish.

With fish caught, filleted and at Custom it was time to plan for the evening.  A campfire would be good but we were out of firewood.  Colby went off with the ten pound splitting wedge to make small pieces of wood out of big pieces.  Sometime later he returned to the coach with a wheelbarrow full of freshly split firewood.  He was learning that wood that one cuts and splits warms one three times, once when it is cut, once when it is split and once when it is burned.

Together he and I laid a fire in the fire pit and then he lit it up.  Onie and Dawn joined us around the fire.

With the day growing long the four of us went into the coach for supper and to finish packing for our upcoming trip.  Morning would come soon so Dawn and Colby went to Kurt’s rig and Onie and I took our selves off to bed.

August 5, 2008

Tuesday

A FIRST

We were up at four.  We consoled ourselves with the fact that it was eight o’clock in Georgia.  Brief showers woke us further and then we started on our coffee and tea while we dressed.

Dressed and almost fully awake we sat down to a breakfast of cold cereal.

Dawn and Colby knocked on our door at twenty minutes to five.  They looked bleary eyed and half asleep.  Perhaps we did too.

Back packs were loaded into the car and we left camp behind at five.

In a few minutes Dawn and Colby had slipped back into slumber.

Onie and I drove toward Anchorage, looking for animals; there were none, and watching a beautiful sunrise.

Our timing was perfect to experience morning rush hour in Anchorage.  We arrived there at seven forty five.

After a false start we stopped to ask for directions to the train station.  Redirected we arrived there at eight, parked and checked in.  We got boarding passes and instructions to wait for a bus to take us to our train car.

The bus deposited us in front of our train car at a quarter to nine.  We boarded our Princess Observation car and took our assigned seats.  In a few minutes we would begin Dawn and Colby’s first train trip.  It would be an old experience for Onie and me but one that was but a distant memory.

No conductor called out “All Aboard” but we did see them checking for any laggards and taking a head count in our car.  Apparently all passengers were present and accounted for because at nine sharp the train started to roll forward, ever so slightly, and then began picking up speed as we left the station.

We had three Princess employees assigned to our car, a narrator, a steward and a bar tender.

As we got away from the station the narrator began telling us about where we were and what we were seeing.  We were passing through an air force base and the area used to train airmen in fire control.  There was a burned out tank, bus, car, airplane and numerous other hulks that had been set on fire and then doused, time and again, as new people learned how to fight and suppress unfriendly fire.

A sweeping turn to the left gave us our first glimpse of the Chugach Mountains and their snow covered peaks.

Soon the Knik River and the interlaced arms of the Matanuska River were passing under the railroad bridges we were crossing.  Toward Cook Inlet we could see Knik

Arm and part of the ghost forest, left from the Good Friday earthquake of nineteen sixty four.

Wasilla, a town of some sixty two hundred souls and the home of Sarah Palin, governor of Alaska, was the first town of any size that we saw.  At the station we paused to let folks on and off and then proceeded on north.  Passing through Wasilla we learned that the stores in Wasilla sell more duct tape than any other city in the nation.  As well as being used for various household jobs it is also used to hold cars together, after a moose encounter, and patch up airplanes, rendering them airworthy, in some folk’s imagination.

We had carried on a few snacks and now we opened some to quell rising hunger pangs.  It had been quite a while since our cold breakfast.

Willow, a somewhat typical small Alaska town, passed outside the window of our car while we were learning that the inhabitants therein want Willow to become the capital of Alaska.  They reason Juneau, the current capital, is too inaccessible and not centrally located so it is onerous, to say the least, for constituents to go there to meet with their elected representatives.  There may be some merit to their argument as Juneau may only be reached by air or water thus giving the governing bodies good insulation from those governed, no doubt they like it like that.  Each year Willow carries on their campaign and each year they go unheard thus proving they must be well oiled as we all know a squeaking wheel gets attention but one running quiet draws none.

In the far hazy distance the Chugach Mountains had given way to the Talkeetna Range.  Between us and the mountains stood woods and meadows and those were bisected and crisscrossed by numerous creeks and rivers.   Straining eyes disclosed no large animals but did notice a beaver here and there as well as many birds and waterfowl.

For the most part the houses we saw were near or fairly near the railroad tracks.

They are put there as roads are scarce and may become impassable in the winter but the train runs all winter long even though in January and February it is just once a month.  People living along the track and wanting to go into town merely stand by the tracks and wave a flag, signaling the engineer to stop the train so they can board.  Such stops are known as flag stops.

Now ducks were more plentiful on the many ponds and a few swans were also seen.

We were nearing and would soon be crossing the Little and Big Susitna Rivers.  Both were in flood stage, from unusually heavy rains, and just recently had been so high that rail service had been suspended for a few days.  Today we saw the result of some of that flooding.  Large trees that had been swept from the banks lay in the center of the rivers, left there by the receding waters.

The train slowed and came to a halt as we pulled into the Talkeetna Train Station.  It was twelve thirty.

As we were preparing to detrain the narrator told us that we would be taking a bus ride to the Talkeetna Princess Lodge and that it would take about an hour fifteen minutes to get to the lodge.  If we liked we could stay in Talkeetna and get a later shuttle.  A quick conference among our group disclosed we were all weary and anxious for a nap.  We took the first available bus to the lodge.

Our narrator left us but the narration did not.  Our bus driver kept up a constant chatter about Talkeetna, the area we were passing through and Denali National Park, just a few miles away, until we reached the lodge.

We checked in, picked up our room keys and headed off to our rooms. 

Dawn and Colby had a pair of queen beds in their room.

We had ordered a king bed.  We got two queens plus one of them had been slept in and not made up with fresh sheets.  In fact we were able to tell the bed had been occupied by a person with long dark hair, gender unknown.  A call was placed to the front desk.  We were told housekeeping would be out to change the sheets and make up the bed.  Our response was that we didn’t want the queen beds, hair or no, but the king bed we ordered and were promised.   A supervisor was consulted, while we waited and with his/her acquiescence, we were promised a king bed, in another room, as soon as it was ready, another hour.  We lay down on top of the spread of the made bed and tried to nap.  Dawn and Colby were sound asleep.

An hour and a half later the front desk called and said our room was ready.  They sent a young man to move our luggage, two back packs.  No doubt he expected a tip but the writer, able to carry his own back pack as well as Onie’s and in not the best mood was unable to come up with same.

Finally settled in a room we quickly closed the curtains, disrobed and fell into bed.  A few hours later we woke.

When we woke we called Dawn and Colby and asked them to meet us at seven in front of the main lodge building, for supper. We got there just a few minutes before them.

Seated in the restaurant we looked over the menu and then ordered.  Colby had pizza and sweet potato fries, Onie a burger and sweet potato fries, Dawn a burger and fries and I pasta in a sourdough bun.

We had enjoyed sunshine most of the day but now it turned cloudy and a fine mist began falling.  We walked back to our rooms, in the gathering gloom and cold.

At nine thirty we went to bed.

August 6, 2008

Wednesday

THE MOUNTAIN CALLS

Seeing Mt. McKinley, aka Denali, is a matter of timing and luck.  One has to be lucky enough to be near when the weather clears and one must also be in a place where the view is unobstructed when the time is right.

One way to try to accomplish this feat is to stay near the mountain and have someone notify you when the mountain is visible.  Last night we stayed near the mountain, relatively speaking.  We were in Denali State Park which is on the southern border of Denali National Park.  This is actually one of the better vantage points from which to view Mt. McKinley.  We had left instructions with the front desk, Denali Princess Wilderness Lodge, to call us, no matter what time, when the mountain was visible.

At six thirty eight this morning the mountain called.  It was visible.  Wiping the sleep from our eyes we quickly dressed and hurried to the viewing area, at the lodge.  Seven minutes had elapsed since the phone rang.  Clouds had moved in during that seven minutes and only the peak was visible when we arrived and that was quickly being covered by the fast moving clouds.  The camera was quickly uncased and trained on the mountain peak.  A few fames were exposed before the mountain was once again hidden from our eyes.

The writer headed back to the room and warm bed at seven thirty.  Onie opted to stay in the sitting area, with a latte, and wait to see if the mountain would show itself again.  As fate would have it the bed time was the better choice.

Back up at nine the writer occupied the shower before Onie took a long bath.  It was the first time she had bathed since we were in Alabama.

We packed and vacated our room fifteen minutes before check out time.

We went to have one last look at where the mountain should be.  It was there--we just couldn’t see it for all the cloud cover.  We had stopped near an arch and some flowers.  A couple of quick pictures were snapped before we headed to the bus that would take us to Talkeetna.

The bus was leaving at eleven.  We took our seats at ten fifty five.  Dawn and Colby were no where in sight.  If they missed this bus the next one was at noon.  We would connect with them in town.  Just as the driver started the engine they appeared out of the gift shop.  They had been busy doing some last minute shopping, pumping up the local economy.

The driver pulled away from the curb on the dot of eleven.

The day was clear and we had a pleasant ride back to Talkeetna.  The driver talked the whole time, telling stories of this and that pertaining to local lore.

In town we wandered, down Main Street, stopping here and there to browse in a shop or two.

We ended up down at the river where some local kids were playing in the sand and floating on tubes in the river.

Colby found a big downed tree lying in the river and walked out on it several times.

With hunger pangs tickling our stomachs we walked back to town and looked for a place to eat.  We settled on lunch at one thirty in the West Rib, so named for a part of Denali.

Satisfied but not stuffed we did some more wandering which led us to the visit ranger station.  There was a diorama of Denali as well as a movie about the mountain.  We went in to watch the movie.  Five minutes into the movie the writer began checking his eyelids for leaks.  When the movie was over Onie woke me and we wandered on, walking down the unpaved back streets.

Wild flowers and dogs kept us company on our walk back toward the train station.  One last stop was made, just across the street from the station where we bought a couple of hoodies and Dawn and Colby got some tee shirts.

We had allowed ourselves enough time to be back at the station half an hour before the train was expected.  It had been years since yours truly had ridden a train, except for yesterday, and time had erased one of the memories I had of trains.  Many times they are not on time.  Today that memory came to life again as we were told the train was running a little late, about an hour.  With a nice depot building and comfortable seats in which to rest that wouldn’t be too great an inconvience but with no building and no seats, whatsoever, an hour and a half was a long time to stand but stand we did.  Thankfully the train was only forty five minutes late.

Talkeetna train station and waiting passengers.

When the passengers from Fairbanks, Denali and other points north were detrained we were able to board and find our seats.

An hour late, five fifty, we were rolling toward Anchorage.  It was evident, from the train’s speed that the engineer meant to make up the lost time.  Casey Jones began running through the writer’s mind and he hoped we wouldn’t meet the same fate.

We were now on the opposite side of the train from the trip down and we saw new and different things.

The first level of the dome car has a small area at the back where one can stand in the open air.  Since we were the last car we were able to stand and see where we had been.

Near eight o’clock we went below to the dining area where all of us enjoyed reindeer chili in a sourdough bread bowl.

By the time the chili and sourdough bread were gone the train ride was too.  We had barely finished eating when the train pulled into the Anchorage station, a real one with walls, a roof and seats.  Off the train we took a bus back to the toad.  It had been a long day but we still had a drive before us.

We were in the car and headed for a Holiday Fuel Stop, by nine.  The train, due in at nine ten had actually been a little early.   At the fuel stop the driver, now showing some signs of wear went in and got a big coke.  The constant flow of caffeine it would provide would keep him awake and alert on the way back to camp.

With the fuel tank full and the coke firmly in the grasp of the driver we set off at nine ten.  With luck and no delays we would be home by midnight.

The road around Cook Inlet is probably the most heavily traveled road in the state.  It is also the most dangerous due largely to the fact that a great number of Alaskans seem to be heavy of foot and short of patience.  The double yellow stripe that indicates a no passing zone, in most states, seems to be viewed here as a dare.  The result, as most would suspect, is numerous wrecks and more numerous near misses.  Any time we travel it I feel that if we make it safely around the Inlet we will get to our destination in good shape.  Tonight was no exception and the driver was on high alert as he began navigating the many twists and turns in this scenic but dangerous drive.  With things going well and the coke barely needed we were making good time when we saw the lighted road sign advising us of road construction ahead and a twenty minute delay.

Never one to view the glass as half empty the driver thought perhaps he would arrive just as the twenty minute delay was at an end, for south bound traffic.  That would be us. It the timing was as he hoped there would be no delay and the travelers would be tucked in their beds before midnight.  When we arrived at the construction area and saw only a few cars in front of us we knew we had just missed the pilot car.  We would have our twenty minute delay.

Not wishing to waste time sitting idly by the road we decided to watch the grass grow.  Well, we did watch the sun going down, too, as that was happening a little faster.

When we saw the pilot car coming in our direction we got ready to roll again.

We were all on high alert watching the waterfalls we were passing and looking for signs of a bore tide on the inlet.  Across the waters the setting sun was casting its last light on the snow covered mountains.

At Portage we took a short detour so Dawn could get some pictures of snow on the mountains surrounding Bear Valley.  She and Colby won’t get to see Portage Glacier and Whittier this trip but the pictures will give them a reminder of what they can see next time they come up.

Dark was falling fast as we made our way back to the Seward highway, took a left and headed homeward.

From the traffic it looked like everyone in Anchorage was trying to go to the Peninsula and those who weren’t going were coming back.

Patience and the Subaru got us to Cooper Landing, in the dark, where the traffic was a little lighter.  Dawn and Colby slept in the backseat as Onie kept me company in the front.

A few minutes after twelve the toad rolled to a stop in front of the Marlin.

We woke Colby and Dawn.  With sleep still in their eyes they made their way to Kurt’s trailer and the comfortable beds that waited for them.

Inside the coach Onie took her pills and headed for our bed.  After downing my pills I checked my e-mail before heading to bed at one thirty.

August 7, 2008

Thursday

A FISH

It was clear and thirty eight at three.  By five it had become cloudy and forty two.  Eight o’clock brought the thermometer up to forty eight but it remained cloudy.

At nine we started the coffee and tea.  While the smell of coffee brewing filled the coach Onie checked her e-mail.

The writer sat and made notes and expanded on notes made on previous days.

The river, ever near and ever beckoning, worked its magic on us this morning and without waiting for breakfast the writer headed off to answer the call.  A short time later he had a fish on the stringer.  He went back to the coach to continue his peckings.

Onie, hearing the news of easy pickings, in the river, left the coach and headed, rod in hand, for the grate and her favorite flipping zone.  Later she came back to the Marlin to report that she had hooked a nice red but without anyone to net for her she had lost it.

Now she occupied the kitchen to work her magic with whole wheat flour.  Half an hour later steaming hot biscuits and sausage were sitting on our table next to our coffee and tea.  Butter, figs, opossum grape jelly and other goodies rested close at hand and soon generous amounts were in the biscuits.

The one red limit could easily have been ten for all the luck most people were having.  They could fish all day and not catch a one so it was with great interest they watched as yours truly went to the grate and began flipping.  It is never the writer’s intent to chase figments of the imagination nor is it his intent to fish in a river where there are no fish.  Accordingly he counts his flips and when a preset number has been reached he quits and goes on to some other interest.  For those of you who are curious and wonder how long this process takes the number of flips will vary from day to day depending on the condition of the flippers back and hips.

Since a twisting motion is involved the torso turns on the hips and after a while a twinge of discomfort may develop.  Continued flipping, which has been know to happen, can lead to near crippling with pain so severe that one can barely move, much less walk.  This is the closest thing the writer knows, to addiction.  One of the onlookers was Sonny, who has timed the flips per minute the writer completes.  Sonny has said that on a good day, when the writer is really on his game, he will average twenty flips per minute.  On a day when his rhythm is off he manages a puny sixteen.  Today was an average day so in about twenty five minutes, three hundred eight flips later, he had his red.  It was back to the coach.

Dawn and Colby blessed us with their presence at two.  They were quite rested and ready for another adventure with Onie and PawPaw but first they sat down to break their fast.  They were happy and content to have cold biscuits and sausage. With breakfast downed and spirits up they were eager to go down river, to fish.  Gear was loaded in Kurt’s boat, Onie and Dawn boarded, and then Colby and the coxswain shoved off.

The run down the river to the gravel bar takes ten minutes, if one goes slow.  We didn’t go slow.

At the gravel bar we tied up and unloaded our gear.  Onie and Colby began fishing right away while Dawn positioned herself in the boat so she could take pictures of the event.  When she was comfortable PawPaw left her and joined Onie and Colby.  PawPaw and Onie had on waders.  Colby had on boots that were mid calf in length.   They proved too short to keep him dry.  With each flip he eased a little further into the river until water was soon lapping at the bottom of his short pants, well above the tops of his boots.  The water was cold, to be sure, but he is young and an avid fisherman and we all know that youth and avidity can lead youth to do some things the elders dare not.

Well, we were fishing and Dawn was busy snapping away with her camera and ours.

While the catching was slow it was still faster than on the grate.  The fisher folk and camera person were all having a grand time.  But with that grand time and the passage of same the sun was sinking behind the tree tops.  Alaskan mosquitoes love cool still shade and that was where we found ourselves with the sun in its retreating mode.  Not wishing to provide too much red blood to the population of Alaskan mosquitoes we decided to get our stingers, load the boat and head for the camp.  Together we had three reds and four silvers.  

Colby climbed out of the boat and helped me ease it onto the gravel at the camp.  When he had it tied securely, to a tree, Onie and Dawn got out and headed for the coach.  Colby and I took our catch to the cleaning table.  It was eight thirty.

It is nice to have an outdoors girl for one’s life mate and it is also good to have a daughter that knows how to make a campfire.  While Colby and I filleted the fish Dawn and Onie laid and lit a campfire, with wet wood.  What a pair of girls!

The campfire was a welcome change from the cold and the fine liquid sunshine that some refer to as “mist”.  We sat for a few moments and enjoyed the warmth of the fire before going inside for our supper of salad, halibut, broccoli and mashed potatoes.

When the dishes had been cleared away, washed and stored we watched a video of Colby’s graduation ceremony.

At midnight they headed back to their comfy beds at Kurt’s.

Ten minutes later we were in our bed.

Outside it had turned colder.  Inside we had the heater set on sixty.  We heard it running as we drifted off to slumber land.

August 8, 2008

Friday

5:24

Time and tide wait for no man and right now daylight isn’t waiting either.  With summer on the wane the sun appears to be traveling south and with its apparent southward travel we are losing daylight.  Yesterday we lost five minutes and twenty four seconds of daylight.  A little simple math tells one that in ten days we will lose about an hour of daylight.  By September sunset will be around nine.  Where has our summer gone?

It was warm and sunny when we got up at nine thirty.  Coffee and tea were made and poured and Onie settled down with a crossword while the writer read the Anchorage Daily News.

Dawn put in an appearance at ten.

With Dawn’s arrival the writer moved to do the recurring job of emptying holding tanks and filling the fresh water tank.

With this job started Dawn and Onie set off to Soldotna and Custom Seafood, to drop off yesterday’s catch, and to go to Freddie’s.

They returned at three.

A boat load of people, Dawn, Jay, Onie, Colby and me set off down the river at four.  We had high hopes of getting some reds and perhaps a few silvers.

On the gravel bar we spread out and began flipping and hoping for the best.  Soon the first of what was to be many reds was hooked, landed, bonked and strung.  The novice, Dawn, hung in there flipping right along with the most experienced.  She hooked quite a few before landing one.

When the fishing for the day was at an end we had three pinks in addition to the reds but no silvers had been hooked or caught.  We headed back up river at seven thirty.

At camp the fish were taken to the grate where yours truly was to filet the fish for our group.  Dawn went along to watch and hold her fish, her first red.

When the fish had been filleted the driver went off to Custom, at eight twenty, to add the latest catch to the fish already there.

Back at camp Onie, Colby and Dawn had started a campfire and were frying clams.  Enga seeing the smoke came to visit.

When the driver returned from Custom, Onie had hot dogs ready for roasting on the open fire.  When the hot dogs were hot we added venison chili and Vidalia onions.

Later some of us roasted strawberry marshmallows.

When the fire began to burn down it quickly became apparent that it had turned cold.

Enga had left earlier and now we went in the coach where Onie and Dawn cleaned up the kitchen.

The writer sat down at eleven fifteen to make a few notes.

When the kitchen was clean we all went to bed.

August 9, 2008

Saturday

OH WHAT A DAY

We were up at eight thirty, making our coffee and tea.  Dawn and Colby arrived shortly thereafter and joined us for cold cereal and fruit.

With everyone anxious to go back down the river we began preparing right after breakfast was finished.

Once again the boat was loaded and then Onie and Dawn boarded and Colby shoved us off, at nine

By nine thirty I was back up the river to get the next bunch of folks who were interested in a boat ride and perhaps some fish, Sidney and Jay.

Another quick run down river and we were ready to fish with those already there.  The fishing was slow but eventually everyone got their red.  Sidney also managed a nice big female pink salmon while Onie and I each caught a dolly, (Dolly Varden).

Now, three o’clock, a run up the river took Dawn and Colby back to camp where they continued packing.  Onie rode with us and began preparing supper.

Another run was made down and then up the river to bring back Sidney and Jay.

With everyone back in camp the boat operator turned his hand to filleting the catch and cleaning the fishing gear.

Onie had been busy and when the last fillaet was cut from the spine of a fish and the last bit of tackle had been cleaned she announced that supper was on the table; sautéed shrimp and salad.  She didn’t have to call twice to get us to the table.

After supper some notes were made and a phone call to Kurt was placed.  He will be leaving Sheldon Monday morning and will arrive here late in the afternoon.

Dawn’s luggage was being loaded in the toad when Bill and Nancy Hager stopped by, to visit.  It was four thirty and it would soon be time to take Dawn and Colby to the airport in Kenai.

Bill had just left when Sonny came by with news of the fish situation in Hollis, Alaska, a place far east of here and quite a bit south.  Birdie’s nephew is a charter boat captain there and he says there are no fish to be had where he is.  As a result his charter business is dying on the vine.

We have had no way to check on the fish situation in the Kenai as our connection to the www has been down all day.

With the rest of Dawn and Colby’s luggage loaded in the Subaru we were off to the airport.  It was five thirty.  Driving to the airport we talked about their visit and what we had done just today.  The day wasn’t over yet, for them or us, and oh what a day it had been, so far.

With them dropped at the airport, for their six fifty flight the driver headed back to Castaway where Onie was waiting.  In five days we would be going to Anchorage to pick up my sister, Martha.  Until then we could rest, reorganize the coach and get some fish.

Arriving back home at seven thirty I joined Onie in front of the TV.  We relaxed until bed time came at eleven.

August 10, 2008

Sunday

SLOOOW MORNING

We were moving at ten but not very fast.  Our days and nights have been full and we feel we have been on a treadmill for sometime.  Our company has been wonderful but with everything else that goes on, taking care of the coach and keeping up with things in camp we had become exhausted.  This morning was a sloooow morning.  We knew it was Sunday and felt we should be in church but also knew if we went we would most likely fall asleep and without any close friends there to wake us we might sleep right through the coming week so we stayed home.

It was another sunny, warm day.

The coffee and tea helped us wash down the cold biscuits and sausage.

Later we both managed to get to the shower.  Being clean helped us feel better so we went back to the coach where we cleaned up inside.

Our friend, Shirley, came over to get my opinion on the value of her boat.  I was a t a loss as to what to tell her.  She was having an impromptu garage sale and was trying to sell her boat as well as many other things.

After we had cleaned the coach a little Onie headed off to Safeway and Freddie’s.

I set out to clean up outside the coach.  The smoker was cleaned and put in its’ box.  The rug was swept.  Accumulated fishing tackle was cleaned off the picnic table and lots of trash was picked up and disposed of.

A trip was made to Kurt’s rig to cover the four-wheeler.

Onie was pulling into camp as I was finishing up with the cover.  I helped her unload the car and then set about replacing the air filter.

Once I had he old filter out I realized I had picked up the wrong one in the shop on Lake Road before we left.  I had a filter for our truck.

Sidney was kind enough to take me in to Soldotna and Schucks Auto Parts for the correct filter.  Back at the camp the filter was installed and Onie and I got ready for supper at Frank and Enga’s. 

Salad, fried turkey, English peas and wild rice made up our supper.  It was followed by fresh peach/blueberry cobbler ala mode.  In addition to hosts Frank and Enga, the guests--Sonny and Birdie, Mike, LaVon, and Onie and me--all enjoyed the meal and dessert.

As the meal was finishing I noticed Bill fishing down on the grate.  I went to join him.  He said he had been there most of the afternoon and had nothing to show for his efforts.  The writer began flipping at his favorite place on the grate, and two hundred forty casts--yes, he does count his casts--he landed a red.  Bill was exasperated to say the least.  The writer filleted the fish and gave it to Bill.

Later Onie and the writer went up the hill to the Hager’s cabin where we played dominoes.  We got back home at twenty minutes to twelve.

Outside it was clear and cold, fifty three.

It had been three days since we had been able to access the web.  Onie again tried to figure out what was wrong with her machine while the writer made a few notes and wrote a little.

When the clock struck one we went to bed.